


(a life paid) a miracle earned

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Pregnancy, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 05, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: Facing a Kree after the end of the world is bad enough, facing him while pregnant is far worse.





	(a life paid) a miracle earned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shineyma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineyma/gifts).



> A brief ficlet to bring the bestest Amy some holiday cheer. I hope you enjoy it, hon!

“Won’t you try some?” The Kreeper—Kasius is his name, but now that she stands in his presence Jemma finds she prefers the rude term—extends a hand, offering her the fruit he’s so carefully trimmed from his tree and, truth be told, her mouth waters at the sight of it. It’s been _ages_ since she’s eaten real fruit. Four hundred and ninety two days to be precise. But his next words turn the saliva to ash in her mouth. “The baby needs its nourishment.”

She hasn’t forgotten for a single moment just how dire her situation is here. She’s on the lower decks, the most secure in all the Lighthouse. It’s not just Kasius here, it’s the deadly Kree woman standing at the door and dozens of other Kreepers roaming the halls, not to mention the enslaved humans like robots ready to carry out his every whim. And yet the reminder that she’s _pregnant_ brings the danger crashing down on her all over again.

“Eat,” Kasius orders, his pleasant tone gone, replaced by something cold.

She takes the fruit and, under his watchful eye, takes a bite.

She’d like to say it tastes bitter, that the conditions and his piercing stare ruin it, but the truth is she has trouble holding back a moan as her teeth puncture the soft skin and juice oozes into her mouth along with moist flesh. It doesn’t taste quite like anything she’s familiar with—whether it is something entirely foreign to Earth or the flavor is due to the odd farming techniques no doubt necessary while living in space on the remains of a dead planet, she doesn’t know—but it’s the best tasting thing she’s had since the hasty meal she ate before boarding the Bus for the arctic.

And some of that must show on her face because Kasius smiles. “I’m glad you enjoy it. A woman in your condition needs her nutrients after all.”

She swallows the bite in her mouth and drops her hand to her side, resisting the urge to press it to her stomach and draw further attention to the slight swell. She’s both terrified he’ll ask what they both know he’s going to and hopeful he’ll get it over with already.

“And how, pray tell, did that come about?”

“The old fashioned way, I suppose,” she says.

His head tips to one side like a birds and she realizes it’s because that’s how he has to show emotion or risk allowing his skin to wrinkle. Is it because some botox-like injection is paralyzing his facial muscles or has he trained himself that way? She’s not sure which would be funnier.

“Quite,” he says. “But I’m more concerned with how that’s possible at all. While you’re all quite free to copulate as much as doesn’t interfere with your work, there isn’t a human on this station capable of procreating.” His eyes rake over her. “Or there shouldn’t be.”

He steps back, considering her like she’s a work of art he’s thinking of buying. One of his fingers taps at his cheek. “Could it be one of ours?”

The idle question apparently isn’t meant for Jemma, as he looks beyond her to the Kree woman. Whatever answer she gives, it’s silent and sets Kasius to circling Jemma.

“That might be why. I admit I didn’t pay much attention to the science behind the method by which we achieve sterility in your population. So long as it works, what do I care? But if it only affects the males…”

It’s easy to hide her relief. Kasius’ misconception is good for her—she can’t exactly explain that the reason she’s still fertile is that she’s from nearly a hundred years in the _past—_ but the general belief that there’s some form of contraception in the food supply has been worrying her ever since she discovered she was pregnant. Kasius hasn’t confirmed it exactly, but he nearly has and that’s more than she likes. There are so many unknowns in this environment, too many for her peace of mind.

“Was it?” he asks, suddenly standing before her again, so close she has to fight not to stumble back. He touches her cheek and the softness of his fingers has the little bit of fruit she forced down threatening to repeat on her. “I can see what one of my men might see in you. Such rare beauty from such filthy stock.” His gaze sharpens. “Was it one of my enforcers who did this to you?”

So much for his misconception. She could lie—she’s worlds better at it than she was prior to the uprising thanks in part to her time in Hydra but also to her recent work with an accomplished tutor—but it would be found out eventually, perhaps sooner rather than later depending on how deeply they investigate her pregnancy. A simple sonogram likely won’t show any difference between a Kree and human fetus, but any bloodwork they might decide to do certainly will.

Reluctantly, she opens her mouth to tell the truth—or as much of it as she absolutely needs to—only to be stopped by the sound of metal striking metal. Kasius retreats several steps and, before Jemma even turns, a body—the Kree woman’s as it turns out—hits the floor.

“Hi, honey,” Grant says. He flicks the crude knife he wields—fashioned from a scrap of barely recognizable metal found during one of his troller runs—sending a spray of bright blue across the floor and wall. “I’m home.”

Jemma smiles in return, not at all bothered by the casual murder or the promise of further carnage in his eyes. Grant is hardly the companion she would have hoped for had she any foreknowledge of being stranded outside her own time, but in the more than a year they’ve been here she’s come to rely on him—and his more brutal sensibilities. She appreciates him in a way she never did—never _could—_ in the security of the early twenty-first century. Which is why she steps readily into his embrace as he nears, leaving free the arm holding the knife.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling her into him. His solidity is a welcome support.

“Fine. They haven’t hurt me.”

“Yet,” Grant says darkly, his eyes sliding to Kasius. Jemma can’t really refute that. After all the trouble the Kree have gone to controlling the human population, she doubts they were going to send her on her way with a simple congratulations.

Kasius is standing his ground now, shaking with either rage or, if he’s smart, fear. Jemma doubts he’s all that intelligent though; he is still standing there.

“You- you- _Gua_ -”

“That reminds me,” Grant cuts in before Kasius has gotten out a full syllable of his cry for help. He pulls a walkie—one of those she helped Deke with weeks ago—from his belt and speaks into it. “Mary is secure. Light this Christmas tree.”

Jemma gapes at Grant, utterly nonplussed by the sound and shudder of an explosion beneath their feet. (They’ve spent months quietly preparing for a rebellion they both argued in turns was too reckless to mount in earnest. It’s not exactly a surprise her imprisonment would finally tip the scales.) “ _Mary_?” she demands. “As in the virgin?”

Grant shrugs. “The rebels are like Skye back when we first found her. They wanted code names. And to them this _is_ kind of a miracle.” His arm tightens around her waist, his fingers pressing tight to the soft flesh of her side.

She thinks again of the mystery of the Kree’s contraceptive measures. “It might still be,” she mutters.

Kasius is staring, struck dumb. Jemma likes him better this way.

Grant’s arm slips out from behind her back, leaving her slightly chilled without him while he closes in on Kasius. “So. You’re the man in charge.”

“And you,” Kasius says, finally managing to pull himself together, “are a fool.” His eyes cut to her. “I imagine you were about to name him as the father? That’s all the better. I’ll enjoy watching my scientists tear the two of you apart to determine how you managed to-”

Grant brings the blade up, slashing across Kasius’ middle, forcing him to pull in his abdomen and stop talking already. Kasius doesn’t like that of course and lashes out with a yell, bringing every ounce of his superior alien strength to bear against Grant.

Grant catches the punch out of the air.

“See, I get where you’re coming from. But there’s one problem.” The knife twirls in his other hand, drawing Kasius’ eye to the orange glow of the remaining Asgardian runes. “You made me angry.” The glow disappears into Kasius’ gut.

Jemma watches with a grim satisfaction as Kasius sinks to the ground, unmoved by his pitiful whine when Grant jerks the knife free. Kasius has kept humanity enslaved here for nearly a hundred years. Perhaps once she might have had some lingering compassion for him, simply as a living creature, but after all this time living as one of his abused subjects, she really can’t be fussed to care for his suffering.

She waits until Grant meets her eyes to say, “As if that’s difficult.”

He shrugs again, as careless as she is for the life he just took. Perhaps that should worry her, make her reconsider the person she’s become in this dark shadow of a world.

But as she molds herself to Grant’s side, feeling safe beneath his arm with the promise of his child inside her, she only feels pleased.

 


End file.
